Thank You
by only.a.small.fish
Summary: The recklessness of a man and the impulse of an elf. Throw in a sprinkle of battle, a smattering of tears and dash of tomfoolery and you have a pretty little story of two dorks in love.


**AN:**

 **This is probably the cheesiest thing you'll ever read, but I don't even care. I got bored of writing only modern Au's, so here's some shenanigans and dorks in love to cleanse your palette.**

* * *

Aragorn gasped for breath, throwing hair out of his eyes to stare up at the troll above him. Pinned down by it's massive foot, Aragorn fought to keep his head as his ribcage and lungs were mercilessly crushed beneath the vile creature's concentrated weight. It leered at him from its great height, it's terrible eyes piercing him from beneath its helmet where they were set in foul skin of Morgoth's creation. Grunting, Aragorn's hand scrambled about beside him on the ground, searching for a weapon, a sharp rock at the very least. The troll let out a guttural roar and raised its sword, its great arms poising for strike. Under the blessing of Tulkas, Aragorn's frantic fingers came to rest on a dagger lying discarded in the dust and he took it up in his hand. Praying that he could be quick enough, the future king raised the blade, staring into the gnarled face of the creature.

Crying out, Aragorn thrust the knife into the leathery appendage that held him prisoner. The troll roared in pain, its face twisting in anger as it freed him. Aragorn tried to roll out from beneath the line of fire before the creature's sword came swinging down, but before he could move, a rumbling screech echoed through the air, causing the troll to freeze. The sound filled Aragorn's ears, for it was a dreadful utterance that no creature of the earth could make. The troll turned to look behind him, granting Aragorn a chance to stand quickly, allowing his gaze to follow the beady eyes of his assailant.

Beyond the black gates, the glowing eye was beginning to move frantically, in a nearly panicked state. The sound it produced hung about it like a haze, seeming to resonate in the queerest way. Within moments, as if an order had been given, the troll turned its back on Mordor and teared away from the black gates.

The battle about him began to cease as all manner of folk; man, elf, orc, hobbit and wizard alike were drawn to the terrible sound. A quivering light began to pour from the great eye, it's slit-like pupil darting about in a panic as a great rumbling arose from the ground. The base of the evil tower shook and, slowly, the black spires began to sink to the ground. Chunks of rock began to chip off the side as the tower crumbled before the eyes of warriors, enemies and servants of evil alike. The great tower then began to lean, the eye shrinking as they looked on, becoming fainter and fainter until it was but a mere speck in the smoggy sky. Then, with a silence to bring it, the eye imploded.

A ring of white erupted from the center as the sound barrier broke and a great rush of air exploded in all directions. Legions of orcs fell all about Aragorn as he tried to withstand the blast, raising his hands above his face, but in his temporarily weakened state he was unable to keep himself upright. The sheer force of the air knocked him backwards and he landed harshly on the hard ground, completely winding himself as dust rose about him in clouds. The cries of orcs and men hung in the air as the plummeting gale came to a sudden halt, but the moment of quiet only lasted a mere second before an immense crack rang out over the battlefield.

Aragorn sat up on his haunches and tried to watch as the ground tumbled away in great slabs, casting thousands of vile creatures into the unknown abyss. He watched on in a mixture of horror and victorious anticipation as his enemy was dashed on the rocks, the treacherous army of Sauron crushed. Amid the roars and screams of the orcs, jubilant cries of the men danced into the sky, but were swiftly silenced when a large boom announced the final crumbling of Barad-dûr.

The armies of Gondor and Rohan stared on as the tower fell from the sky, coming down with a great crashing and rumbling all while massive chunks of rock were hurled into the sky. None of the rocks came close enough to harm the victors, save a few small specks. That is, until one of the immense spires between which the eye had been poised was suddenly catapulted into the air. Men scattered before it, cleaving a path through the clamour of bodies both alive and dead. Aragorn followed the huge black rock with his eyes as it tumbled through the air and realized that it was headed straight for him. His eyes wide, he stared at the thing that was sure to take his life any moment...

A cry rang our through the air; high, crystalline and terrified.

"ARAGORN!"

A sudden force plummeted into his side in a flurry of gold. It launched him out of the rock's path only seconds before it smashed into the ground.

"Mana ane tanaldё?*" someone demanded in a panicked voice, the sound only inches above him. With a groan, Aragorn tried to sit up but there was a force pressing him down. He tentatively let one eye open and found he was beneath a terrified-looking Legolas.

"Hloaldё firin!*" Legolas cried, his eyes wide and his face disheveled. Legolas, who was typically so calm and level headed was shaking, tears in the corners of his eyes and his lip quivering. "Hloaldё firin!"

"Legolas..." Aragorn breathed, comprehending. "I'm alright," he said, bringing a hand up to Legolas' cheek; cupping the stricken, dust-streaked face. He attempted again to sit up, this time Legolas complied and subconsciously moved back slightly so that they could sit together, admittedly with the elf nearly in the Dúnadan's lap.

"I'm alright," Aragorn repeated breathlessly, pressing their foreheads together. "Thanks to you." Legolas looked down, his eyes closing and his breath coming in shaky gasps as he descended from the high of his panic attack. He leaned into Aragorn's touch, as if he was desperate for reassurance that the man was truly there.

Legolas suddenly threw his arms about Aragorn's neck, catching the man quite off guard. He fell back a little, taking a moment to register that he was being held in a tight embrace. Legolas pulled him close, having leaped into his lap, and held him as if the was slipping through his grasp.

"Don't ever..." Legolas murmured "...do that again." He buried his face into Aragorn's neck and pressed flush against him with every part of his being. Aragorn felt a shy smile tug at the corners of his lips as he placed his arms around the elf prince.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," Legolas told him, his arms tightening around him. "I couldn't live on." Aragorn's heart fluttered at these words and he felt a sudden surge of love for the elf.

"Hush now," he said, placing a gentle hand on the back of Legolas' head comfortingly. "We're safe."

"But I almost lost you," Legolas retaliated, his voice beginning to quiver. Aragorn pulled his head away from where it had hooked over Legolas' shoulder, returning his hand to the prince's cheek, their faces inches from each other.

"But you didn't," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked into the wide blue eyes brimming with tears. "You saved me. You brave, beautiful thing."

Legolas bit his lip to fight back the tears and nodded hastily, his eyes blinking rapidly as he began to cry. Aragorn's mouth opened slightly in protest as the beautiful and distraught creature before him began to inhale unevenly, his shoulders shaking as tears began running down his cheeks.

"Oh, mellon nin," he breathed, pulling Legolas close in his arms, cradling him as he sobbed into his chest. He ran his hand through the wild and yet incomprehensibly soft hair, his fingers unknowingly undoing the already mussed braids. When he placed his hand on Legolas' back, he could feel his heart pounding at a mad speed, only one of the factors of the elf's evident panic.

"Aragorn," a deep voice said, floating down from above. Still holding Legolas tightly, Aragorn looked up into the wizened and tired face of Mithrandir. From beneath his great brows, the wizard's eyes ㅡwhich so often twinkled merrilyㅡ shone with relief, dulled by a terrible sadness. He bent down slightly to speak to the Dúnadan.

"The men are wanting to head back," he said, lowering his voice. His gaze flickered towards the quivering form of the elf before returning to the weary eyes of Aragorn. "Ought we wait for you?"

"No," Aragorn replied. "Let them go home. We'll catch up." Mithrandir nodded. He placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder before leaning down to mutter carefully in his ear.

"I'll leave you a horse," he said. "Take your time. There is all the time in the world. And by Eru, you'll need it."

Though slightly puzzled by the wizard's last statement, Aragorn nodded to him in gratitude. "Thank you," he said. Mithrandir smiled sadly before turning away, muttering to himself. As his back retreated into the field, Aragorn managed to catch a word or two of what he said.

"At least there's still some love in this world," he muttered, or at least something along the lines of such. Confused, Aragorn watched the wizard walk away until he felt Legolas shift in his arms.

"Hush now," he whispered, turning back again and placing his lips next to the leaf-shaped ear peeking through the golden tresses. "I've got you." He cradled the shivering elf in his arm as his sobs began to subside, eventually petering out to shivering gasps.

After waiting a few moments, Aragorn moved to gently plant a tiny kiss to the top of Legolas' head. Then, as if someone had blinked it away, Legolas' shivering stopped completely. It was so sudden that Aragorn felt slightly concerned. He was about to ask what was wrong when Legolas spoke, his voice quiet and small.

"Do that again," he whispered, his hands curling on Aragorn's chest.

"Do what?" Aragorn said quizzically, trying to catch Legolas' eye. Legolas pulled back from his embrace, looking up into his face with all the determination of the world.

"Kiss me," he said, his eyes glistening like one of the first rivers of Ulmo. Aragorn's eyes widened as he looked down into the fair face below his, so delicate and decorated with tear tracks running through the grime. So many times had he seen this face, this beautiful face to whom none could compare, but it had always been clean and bright, a smile pulling at the corners. Yet, the version he saw, painted with fear and messy from tears, made it all the more enchanting. Such an invitation... He couldn't help but comply.

Carefully, he raised his hand to the elf's cheek once more, their eyes locked. With a measure of slowness, he brought his lips down to meet the slightly parted ones of his golden counterpart.

"Meleth," Legolas breathed just before their lips touched, momentarily filling the space between them with the taste of love. Aragorn had only begun to register the word when they became one and it was pushed to the back of his mind, for he had never felt anything so wonderful in all his life. The moment their warmth was combined, Legolas leaned into Aragorn, his whole body tensing as if he'd captured the most delicious thing in the world. His eyes fluttered shut and his eyebrows inclined upwards as he brought his hand up to cup Aragorn's jaw, yet letting the Dúnadan guide their mouths.

It began as only a dance of the lips, a welcomed soft thrill after the harsh rage of battle. The beginning was shy, but gently, Legolas let his bravery forward. He opened his mouth into Aragorn's, kissing him passionately, to which Aragorn returned with much equal eagerness. He slipped his hand behind Legolas' head, curling his fingers into the soft hair as he worshipped the lips against his. Aragorn's other hand came to rest on Legolas' waist, barely sneaking down to brush his hip, while the elf brought his other hand up to clasp Aragorn's face in both hands.

A warmth suddenly filled Aragorn's mouth as it was occupied by Legolas' tongue. He kissed back in earnest, allowing Legolas to do as he pleased but pushing himself forward all the same. When his tongue joined Legolas' between them, Legolas moaned subconsciously, pushing himself deeper into the Dúnadan's embrace. Aragorn could feel the wetness of tears still staining the elf prince's face and it made him want to cherish him all the more.

"Oh, Legolas," he gasped in between kisses, the name coming out in more of a breathy gasp than a word. He kissed him again and again, reveling in the wonderful sweetness that was Legolas.

A drop of water landed on his shoulder, soaking through a gap in his armor, followed by another and then another. Drops began to land all around them as rain started to fall with a calming sound, as if the earth was breathing a great sigh. Rain began falling between their lips, landing in their hair and sliding down their cheeks. Though the rain had been light at first, before long it was pouring down.

Legolas broke away and cast his arms around Aragorn's neck, letting his hands hang loosely behind his back. He seated himself in the Dúnadan's lap, smiling at him with his eyes before darting close to his ear to whisper:

"I think it's raining."

Aragorn burst into laughter, the low and joyful sound resonating from deep within his chest. It was joined almost immediately by Legolas' own sparkling brook of a laugh. The elf turned his face up to the sky, closing his eyes as the rain landed on his cheeks. Quite suddenly, he then stood up from Aragorn's lap and threw his arms up into the air, crying out in joy as the rain hugged him on all sides. He tried to twirl, jumping into the air as he did so, but the ground was slick with mud and his soft leather sole slipped on it almost immediately. With a noise of surprise, he fell flat on the ground, causing mud to spray in all directions and sending Aragorn into hysterics.

"Are you alright?" he managed out, his speech wrought with laughter. Legolas looked up at him from where he'd landed, his face painted both with streaks of mud and a ridiculous smile that quickly turned to a sly grin as an idea sparked in his mind. He got onto his knees and reached forward to grab Aragorn's ankle. Before the man could do much more than cry out, Legolas tugged on his leg and dragged him into the mud too.

"You rotten little pixie," Aragorn snarled playfully, sitting up, his hair full of filth. Legolas laughed heartily at both the sight and Aragorn's attempt at an insult, until he got a handful of mud in his face. He stopped laughing momentarily and Aragorn thought he'd made him angry. But all those thoughts were dissolved when the prince returned the favor by mashing a pile of mud into his face, his laugh ringing through the air.

Chuckling, Aragorn wiped the mud out of his eyes with the back of his hand. Once they were more or less clear, he opened them to the bizarre sight of the ever-so-serene elf cackling, his face almost completely obscured by the mud and his golden hair streaked with dirt and bits of grass.

"You've... You've got a bit of dirt there," Aragorn teased, pretending to be serious. He reached forward as if to wipe it off and Legolas innocently turned his face towards him.

"Really?" he said in mock surprise. "Where?"

"Right..." Aragorn began, pretending to inspect the 'dirt' intensely. "...there." He finished his phrase by plummeting the side of Legolas' head with another handful of mud that he gathered with his other hand. Legolas' eyes filled with shock for a split second, but it changed to a devious glint as he reached down to the ground.

"I'm not sure that was such a good idea," he said, rising to one knee and scooping up a clump of ground into his hand. He poised his hand as he stood, standing tall and elegant; something oddly possible, even considering the brown muck smeared across his face. Pulling his arm back, he grinned almost maliciously.

"Has living with Elrond taught you nothing?" he inquired, readying his hand. "Don't mess with an elf." Legolas' gleeful smile was the last thing Aragorn saw before the dirt was catapulted into his face. The force of the hit was so strong it caused Aragorn to fall backwards, sending him sprawling into the ground.

For a minute, Legolas thought he'd knocked him out and frantically ran to his side. He was about to kneel down to Aragorn's aid when the Dúnadan raised and arm and grabbed at Legolas' leg, scaring the very life out of him. Laughing and partially blind, Aragorn stumbled to his feet and tried to push Legolas into the mud. However, the prince was too quick for him and, laughing, darted away.

They chased each other mercilessly through the rain, slipping on the ground and tripping over their own feet. The rain washed the mud off their faces, causing it to run in little brown rivers as they laughed with each other.

Legolas paused for a moment and Aragorn tried to take the opportunity to push him over, but as he ran, his foot slipped on a stray arrow and he was sent sailing forward. Hearing him cry out, Legolas spun around and ㅡwith his agile reflexesㅡ caught the king by his forearm.

"Try not to kill yourself!" Legolas jested in a rather strained voice as Aragorn used his arm to pull himself up. "We've only just survived."

"We did survive, didn't we?" Aragorn gasped as he got to his feet. He looked up at Legolas, standing before him and soaking wet. He smiled a little at the sight of him ㅡthe lovely elven prince, panting for breath, his stringy wet hair falling in his eyes, his cloak tattered and his clothes caked in mud. What a sight he was. For beneath the rugged exterior, he was glowing with an uncontrollable happiness that Aragorn had not once seen upon his face. His eyes shone with joy, becoming the deepest, clearest blue Aragorn had ever seen. A wave of love came crashing down on the king, for as many times as he'd laid eyes on the elven prince, there had never been a time that he could remember when he'd been more beautiful. He took a step forwards and crushed his lips against the others, taking him purely by surprise.

Legolas kissed back earnestly, though it was nothing like the passionate, loving kiss from before. This was a kiss of pure and utter happiness, of love and joy. Aragorn only kissed him for a moment before pulling away and looking down into his eyes.

"We're alive!" he cried. He dropped his hands to Legolas' waist and, without warning, lifted him off his feet. Letting out a gasp of surprise, Legolas instinctively leaned forward in fear of falling, placing his hands securely on Aragorn's shoulders. Aragorn cried out in happiness as he spun the two of them around, lifting the feather-light Legolas up high.

"We're alive, by Eru!" he laughed, suddenly dropping Legolas to his feet. Before Legolas could do much, Aragorn kissed him again and again.

"We're alive and I love you!" he told him. "Oh, how I love you so!" Once Aragorn gave him time to breathe, Legolas stared up at him, confused but joyous beyond words.  
"Do you, truly?" he asked, his voice hopeful and light. Aragorn seized the sides of his face and brought them close to his where Legolas discovered that tears had formed in the corners of his eyes.

"I've never been more truthful in my whole life long," Aragorn replied. He beamed through the grime, a sun seeming to shine in his eyes. "And I've never been happier to exist," he said, his voice breaking as tears of joy began to fall, mingling with the rain dripping down his cheeks. Legolas gasped, trying to bring a hand up to cup Aragorn's face, but before he could do say anything, he was pulled into a tight embrace.

"Thank you," Aragorn sobbed. "Thank you, my dearest Legolas."

"What for?" Legolas inquired, his heart filling with warmth. Aragorn sniffled, holding Legolas tighter than ever.

"For being the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me."

* * *

Mana ane tanaldё? - What were you doing?  
Hloaldё firin! - You could have died!


End file.
